|The Eyes of a Child
Author: Faile Goldeneyes PM
ok, bad at summaries. basically a oneshot from the little girl's POV who wants a sodawater and how she reacts to the rude refusal. rr please :Rated: Fiction K - English - Words: 753 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 1 - Published: 07-04-06 - Status: Complete - id: 3026613
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's Note: i apologize for switching between her calling Roux "my Pony" and "Roux". i hope it is not too annoying for you all to read. please enjoy this little drabble i've had in my head since i've seen the movie. i have always wondered what the little girl might have been thinking. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. :)
I remember a voyage when I was very young, to a town that changed my life. It was when we stopped in the town where Vianne lived. My Pony fell in love with her, but I am jumping ahead of myself. I woke up with a stomach-ache and wanted a soda-water.
"Well, we will just have to fix that, won't we?" Roux—that was his name but I called him my Pony—said with a chuckle, winking at my mum.
"But Roux," Mum whispered in worry, "the Townspeople hate us…our kind."
"Not all," Roux reassured her. He took my hand and strode off, "Besides, all we want is a little soda-water."
We wandered about the town, finally finding a small café. We strode in, my hand gripping his a bit tighter. There were a few people there, but not many. Not a busy time of day, I suppose now.
"Sorry, we're closed," the man sitting at the counter said with a glance of disgust in our direction.
I could feel my Pony's anger rising by the way he stiffened. Young as I was, I knew it was because of the way we lived.
"She just wants a soda-water," he told the man, his hand tightening around mine reassuringly.
The man leered at us and snarled, "I don't serve animals."
If I had not been there, I believe Roux would have killed that man. As it were, he gently said, "Right." He turned and walked out, shooting a hard look at the man.
I puzzled over the man's words before asking softly, "Are we animals? Is that why everyone hates us the way they do?"
Roux stopped and turned to me, his eyes glittering with emotion. I cannot recall a time where his eyes seemed so alive and so sad at the same instant. He knelt, looking me in the eyes, and grasped my shoulders. "No," he said firmly, "We are not animals. People who say that are just afraid, afraid of those who live and talk in a different way. Do not let anyone look down on you because you live on the River."
Roux straightened, taking my hand, and continued walking. Every now and then, he would stop to read a paper posted in various shops' windows, his face growing darker by the minute. Suddenly, we saw Vianne—the woman who visited the boats earlier—standing in a doorway.
"Hello, I just made a fresh batch of monduon. Anybody interested?" she smiled welcomingly.
I could not help speaking, being so young and my stomach-ache worse since our interaction at the café. "My tummy hurts," I said shyly, sorrowfully.
Vianne looked at me with gentleness, "I've got just the thing for that. Come in." Roux offered a dry smirk. "What about boycotting immorality, then?" he said with a soft challenge in his eyes.
"Come in," Vianne repeated, shrugging.
Soon I was sitting on a stool, eating a leaf. "An old remedy," Vianne had said, "from the cocoa tree." Sure enough, it helped.
"Tastes strange," I mumbled, still crunching on it.
Vianne chuckled, glancing at Roux, "Mm…maybe your daddy would like a taste."
I looked up at her with a bit of surprise before informing her, "He's not my daddy. He's my pony." Vianne raised an eyebrow to Roux who merely smiled.
Then her daughter, Anouk, offered me something far more tasty—chocolate. She took me up to her room to meet Pantoufle, her kangaroo. We came again a few times, Roux and I. He always found something to be doing for Vianne while I had fun playing with Anouk and her kangaroo.
I learned two very important things that day. People get afraid of the unknown and do not know how to deal with it, thus letting it govern how they act. The second thing is that there are always people who do not let fear govern them. Oh, and to not let others' fears govern yourself. I suppose that is three things. You do not mind, do you? I thought you did not.